The Games We Play
by Marauder's Mystery
Summary: Blaise Zabini and Kevin Bundy are straining under the stress of hiding what they feel for each other, and it is exploited to its fullest extent one day in Potions Class. Rated for sexual content, and there might be some language, too.


**A/N: **This was a little AIM thread that a friend and I wrote one afternoon, and this is dedicated to her. Also, Kevin Bundy, sexless, houseless character that he is, is a name that I stole from the front of _Quidditch Through The Ages. _Looking back, I realize that a little more back story might have been the better way to go, but if this gets enough response, I may just make a story out of it. That said, sit back and enjoy.

Kevin sat glumly ain the Great Hall, poking at his roast beef sandwich with a fork that he had stolen from someone as he walked by. He'd been back from Sarah Fawcett's house for an hour already, and he had been foolishly hoping for a reunion with upon his return. Maybe she really did think I was messing around while I was gone, he thought sadly. As the full realization of what this meant dawned on him, he threw the fork across the hall and stalked toward the entrance.

Blaise growled under her breath as she stalked towards the entrance to the Great Hall. "No one cares about the fucking Goblin revolts," she muttered, not even paying attention. Her mind was torn between Binns's incompetence and the fact that she had no idea how Kevin was. She'd never received a return owl. She bumped someone's shoulder. "Watch it," she growled, ready to shoot the person a Death Glare, until she looked up into all-too-familiar blue eyes. She blinked. "Am I dreaming?"

He stared into those eyes, all too afraid that she was some fragment of his imagination and longing, and that if he moved she would disappear, shattered to the wind like a thousand tiny memories. The silence between them stretched for an eternity, before he reached out and pulled her tightly to him, breathing in her scent, her life, her perfection. 

She clung tightly to him, unwilling to breathe. "I missed you," she whispered, feeling her eyes start to burn with tears. "I'm never letting you go again." 

He shook his head, holding her tighter still. "Never. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be. I don't blame you, but it's been an eternity." She rested her chin against his chest, looking up. "But you came back and that's all that matters." 

He could see the tears spilling over her eyes, and he caught them as they descended down her pale face. He didn't want to tell her, he didn't want to burden her heart with such heavy things, but he knew that if he didn't tell her now, he would be lost in her touch forever, and never be able to let her know. "I...I got a letter...while I was away."

She tilted her head questioningly. "And?" 

"It was from my father," he elaborated, not sure exactly how to put into words the thoughts racing in every direction through his head.

"I've had owls too." she nodded, encouraging him to continue. She heard a few people chuckle. Let them stare.

"I wanted to think that it wasn't true. That the Professors were just being paranoid, but he said that my Mother's broken out of prison. He can't find her, but he's gone to look for her," the story his father had painted for him spilled from his lips as the images danced behind his eyes. "....And loyalties," he concluded, "That seemed to be the biggest point he stressed."

She nodded. "Papa too. I'm.....unlikely to listen." 

He arched a brow at her. "You mean...you're a neutral?"

"No." she shook her head. "I'm on my own side. I'll do whatever I have to do in order to maintain my safety. I used to be completely selfish..." she trailed off. "Now I have someone else to protect."

His hand left hers and he stroked her cheek. "I don't want you to have to. I don't want you to worry about me. It's my job to keep it so that you don't."

She shook her head. "I have to. I can't imagine being without you. As long as we're together, I won't let anything happen to you."

A small half-smile graced his face. "Nothing's going to happen. I like to think that I'm smarter than that."

She shook her head. "No. You're not thinking like the enemy. You have to underestimate your own abilities to think like your enemy."

His eyes widened ever so slightly as her words replayed in his head. He'd expected something along the lines of, "Of course not, my hunky lovebunny, but be careful anyway." But her honesty, her frankness and most of all, her knowledge startled him. 

"Of course, midear."

She glared. "You won't be able to fully understand unless you experience it for yourself. That way you can anticipate the next move." she sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just so worried." she stood on tiptoe and gave him a chaste kiss.

He licked his lips as she pulled away. "I apologize for not being more knowledgable," he admitted, "I've heard it in stories about my mother and father, to be sure, but I can't say that it's quite the same as," he brushed a piece of hair from her eyes as he tried inwardly to find the right word, "first-hand experience."

She nodded. "It's awful. You don't want to know what I've experienced."

He closed his eyes, not wanting to picture anything that would place such bitterness into her eyes. "I know I don't."

She shook her head and lowered her voice, stroking his cheek lightly. "Let's not talk about this now...let's not talk at all." 

He lowered his head, resting on his forehead on hers. "Beautiful."

She pressed her lips against his, pulling him into a deep, longing kiss. "Not here. You find somewhere." 

He looked slowly around, registering for perhaps the first time the eyes that were fixed upon them intently. "Um..." he bit his lip thoughtfully. His eyes flicked around the room again as a grin spread over his face, "I want something different."

She arched an eyebrow. "Different?"

He nodded slowly. "Differnt. In fact..." he took her hand and pulled her down the corridor, "I have a class to get to."

She let him lead her, hand wrapped tightly around his. "What class?" she asked with a smirk. 

He stopped suddenly, feeling her crash into him. He tried to remember what class he was supposed to be going to. "...Potions." 

She shook her head. "You're not expected in class. And I just don't give a damn." she pressed herself up against him, lightly kissing his earlobe.

A smirk passed over his lips as a gleam flashed in his eyes. "Check your schedule, love. We're expected in class, and we're going to enjoy it."

"But I don't want to go," she complained. "How am I expected to care about anything else when I'll have you next to me?"

"Just you wait," he replied smoothly, "By the time this class is over, you will come to appreciate it more than any other that you have."

She shook her head and continued walking, shifting her books to her other side. "You better not be lying."

He grinned, "Have I ever lied to you?"

She shook her head. "Only that whole thing about you being a bad Slytherin," she smiled. 

He narrowed his eyes and swooped his head, biting her neck. "Be nice."

She ignored the shudder that passed through her. "You said it first; I'm allowed to repeat it."

His teeth retracted from her neck, and he soothed the red spot with soft kisses. "...Good point."

She rubbed her neck. "You have sharp teeth. You'll have to make it feel better later."

"I'd planned on doing that anyway," he grinned, dropping her hand as he walked into the dungeon and took his seat, a cocky mask placing itself squarely on his features as he prepared for another hour and a half of torment that came from this mask. But today would be different, because their game had been taken to another level, a dangerous and intriguing and unimaginably erotic new level. And all he had to do was make the first move. "Do you have to sit there?" he asked exasperatedly as she took the seat next to him.

She shot him a look. "Well, it's either here or with Potter. I chose the lesser of two evils," she arched an eyebrow at him. Just what exactly was he playing at, anyways? "And besides," she added, "it might be the only time you ever get full marks on a potion, working with me."

"Oh be still my beating heart," he spat, "Just sit down. Your pissy air is enough to make anyone want to vomit. Not to mention," he added, reclining backward with a smirk, "That I can see up your skirt.

"Well, any money says your vomit still smells better than Potter." she smirked. The line was fairly naive, but it would have to do. "And you know you like it," she added. 

He rolled his eyes, "Just sit dow-" 

"Mr. Bundy, Miss Zabini, I assume that you'll be able to work out your childish differences long enough to let us resume class?" Professor Snape had appeared out of nowhere, peering at the pair of them from behind beatle black eyes.

"Yes, sir," Kevin replied politely.

Blaise looked at him in a huff and reached down for a quill and parchment, deliberately moving her skirt up slightly as she placed the supplies on the table. Her annoyance was fairly real; she can't ever remember being yelled at by Snape before. She focused on his lecture, writing down a few important points, deliberately not looking at Kevin.

Kevin bit back laughter as he pulled his things from his back and began scratching out notes with his right hand, not caring much at how awkward it looked, or the fact that it was completely illegible. It was times like these that he hated being left-handed. He tossed a mildly smug smile her way, making certain that he caught her eye. 

She blinked and switched her quill to her right hand. It was at this point she was glad that she still had coordination in her right hand, as she wrote rather primitively on the top of his paper. What?

He stopped, raising an eyebrow at her. With an annoyed glare he plucked the quill from her hand and placed it in her left. "Stop getting in my way," he hissed irately. He needed as much room as he could get.

"You're being a fucking git," she growled under her breath. It's not like half the school didn't just see them snogging in the hallways. What was the point of being secretive and hating each other now?

"You like it," he growled right back, placing a hand on her thigh. 

 She stiffened at his touch. Barely enough for anyone else to notice, but enough for him to know. "Not enough," she whispered.

Kevin smirked, "By the time I'm through with you, you'll be begging me to stop," he said slowly. His first two fingers stood upright and walked gingerly up her thigh while his other hand continued to furiously scribble things down as the Professor in the front of the room lectured on.

She continued to write, trying to ignore his fingers. She brought her right pinky to her lip and bit the nail, looking at him. "Do your damndest," she muttered, as her own hand moved down to his leg as well.

The clearing of Professor Snape's throat make Kevin snap to attention. This was the part of the lecture he had dreaded from his first class with him, though he had long since been able to predict the method to his cruel practice of picking out a student at random and grilling him or her until he brought tears.

He shrugged it off. If he remembered correctly, it would be a Gryffindor sitting in the back of the classroom that would be called on. His fingers kept their happy stroll until they were well above the hem of her skirt. He inched his fingers right past her sex and to where he thought the top of her undergarment should be, but nothing was there. Dirty girl, he thought. So she really had been looking for him. 

 She shook her head. Little did he know. She brushed her hand across the front of his trousers as Snape harassed Lavender Brown. She smiled, noticing a slight bulge that hadn't previously been there. Her hand left his leg just long enough for her to grab his arm, guiding it back to the inside of her thigh.

"Your wish," he whispered, his fingers dancing adroitly around her opening, "Is my command."

Two of his fingers dove into her hard and fast, awaiting her reaction with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Miss Zabini, perhaps you can help Miss Brown through her bumbling incompetence?" Snape asked coolly.

She tightened quickly, while biting her lip. Shit. However, she thanked Merlin for small miracles. She'd done a lot of this with Fred. She fought to keep her voice steady. "Doxy eggs can only be used for flavouring potions and have no actual effect on the potion you're making, unless..." she shuddered quickly, "you're making a potion that can be used for..." she closed her eyes tightly. She was going to KILL him. "I mean...the Draught of the Living Dead..." she let out a deep breath, realising she probably looked sick or something. "...in which case it can alter the draught completely, causing the unwanted side effect of death..." she couldn't get any more out. Her left hand was almost numb from gripping the quill so tightly.

Kevin grinned evilly. "She's forgetting something, Professor," he said, not bothering to raise his free hand as his other began to stroke the only spot he knew could make her scream. "To be used in the Draught of the Living Death, they must be kept warm, so as to stimulate the body heat that the mother would normally give off. However, Doxies are also known to have an incredibly high body temperature, and in the nest, eggs are usually kept in close proximity to one another. Therefore, they must be kept somewhere hot," he stole a brazen glance downward, "And tight."

She whimpered softly as she felt his fingers curl upwards. He was ruthless. She shot him a glare that, thankfully, Snape would interpretate as hatred that he'd one-upped her. In all honesty, it was her hatred towards the fact that he was making her beg. She was putty, under his control. "Bastard," she moaned softly through clenched teeth as her hand went straight for the zipper on his trousers. That was it. This was war. She unzipped it quickly and in almost perfect silence, then let one of her fingers slip through the material of his boxers, toying with his head.

"Oh fuck," he mumbled as he realized how short-lived his glory had been. Her movement on him had caught him by such surprise that his fingers jerked inside of her.

"Mr. Bundy?" Snape asked with what would pass for concern coming from anyone else, "You're looking rather pale. Don't tell me that your display of arrogance has drained you so much that you can't answer my next question. At the beginning of my lecture, I mentioned the three key points to remember when making this potion. What were they?"

Kevin swallowed hard, glancing at his notes and realizing that he couldn't read a word that was written there. "K-Keep a constant...a constant eye on things..." he paused, gasping for breath, "...Never l-let your g-guard down and..." he stopped breathing entirely, the answer that had been previously sitting in his mind suddenly washed away. "...And..."

"Take responsibility for your own mistakes," Blaise said clearly, smirking at Kevin. She'd had a moment to regroup and it seemed to make all the difference. She reached another couple of fingers in and started trailing them up and down his shaft, reminding him just how much control she really had.

"No," he gasped, retracting his fingers and quickly replacing them, adding a third, "That wasn't at the beginning of the lecture, Zabini. It was...something...ah, choose your partner wisely. But nice try," he said loftily, smirking at her as his fingers trailed tantalizingly over her core.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to ignore the shuddering passing through her body. "Well, unfortunately, I can't see you coming up with any other answer other than looking stupid and muttering like a Neanderthal!" She raised her voice at the last part, though it was more to release some of the agony he was putting her through. Her movements across his erection became quicker, dragging a nail lightly across it, taking a twisted pleasure from the fact she could feel him twitching underneath her fingers.

His eyes clenched shut at both the sting of her last words and the suffering having to hold himself back was causing him. "Well maybe," he spat, "If you had known enough about the Draught of the Living Death to not look like you just stepped out of remedial potions I wouldn't have had to come up with the answer!" he exclaimed, driving his finers into her as a punctuaction for each of his final words.

 "I can't bloody believe this!" she growled at him. "You dare to insult my intelligence and then proceed to screw up yourself. You're such an egotist!" She screamed, a scream mixed with frustration and the fact that she was going absolutely crazy.

 "You like it!" he yelled right back. "You-" he stopped all movement as he realized what he'd just said, but something inside of him was nagging at him, telling him that if this game was going to be played, it was going to be played right. "You've been nothing but horrid to me for the last six years because you don't know how to deal with the fact that not only am I smarter than you are, but I've managed to be so without holing myself in the library for hours at a time."

 "I only hole myself in the library so I don't have to deal with idiots like you who have to prove their intelligence," she glared at him, shaking her head. Her eyes drilled into his. He'd made a mistake, and she was going to give him hell for it. "Books are a better substitute for company when I have to deal with prats like you all the time in my house!"

 "Oh is that the excuse you're preparing to use? That you don't want to have to deal with me?" He dropped his voice to a hiss as he pushed himself closer to her, "Funny, you didn't seem to mind it before."

 "Don't start here," she matched his pitch, though her tone was more pleading. "I don't want to deal with any of you! Sociability is only a way for you to think you have some connections, but then when something happens, you'll be selfish and back out, so why not just forget about the friendship and hate everyone to begin with? It's been working for me just fine!" her anger was almost becoming real.

 "It's been working for you because you never found something better. Is that it?" he asked hotly, though the look in his eyes plainly suggested that he hoped that she had.

 "I've never wanted to look for something better because what's the use? We're all going to die anyways and then it won't matter," she growled. "Once you're dead, you're not going to regret anything. If you live with any kind of regret, you're going to turn into an angsty little freak who slits his wrists because he can't take the pain of not finding his one true love," she added. 

 "And what if you had?" he pressed blatantly.

 "And if I had, he'd have to become a part of me. He'd become like an extension of me, so I wouldn't only have to worry about myself. There would be another that I would never see hurt. Ever. No matter what he ever did, I'd have to dedicate my life to his survival and mine," she shook her head, biting her lip. Her tirade had severely weakened as she realized more and more how true the whole thing was. She knew her eyes were turning red, a sure prelude to crying.

 "So go find him then," Kevin shot, every bitter, resentful, insecure thought suddenly shooting into his speech, weakening it. 

 She opened her mouth to shout back, but couldn't. "I did," she whispered softly, tears threatening to spill over.

 "And you're sure about--"

"Excuse me" Snape's voice snapped Kevin's concentration, "Your banter, though amusing is not entirely fundamental to the class. So if you could please be so kind as to SHUT UP!"

Blaise looked over at him and shook her head. "More sure than I am about anything else," she murmured, turning her attention back to the fact that Kevin had still been teasing her the whole time. She grabbed her quill. _and this is not a good situation,_ she scrawled messily.

It's really not, he scratched back. Realizing that he still had the use of only one hand, he picked up the quill and continued. Do you want me to stop? 

 Not really...but at this point, us making any more noise is a very very bad thing.

 You're right. I'm sorry. He removed his fingers from inside of her, a shudder coursing through him at the slick noise that they made. Calmly, he went back to taking notes, tossing her the most devious of grins as he sucked every bit of moisture from them.

 She smiled her own Cheshire grin as she pulled her hand from within his boxers, giving his leg a slight squeeze. _No reason to be sorry. Later._

 Deftly, he zipped his trousers and straightened his tie. _Promise?_

She waited until Snape had turned his back, since he kept shooting them looks. _Of course._ She shook her hand out lightly. Her right hand was not happy right now. 

He held the hand that had been straightening his tie out in front of him, and noticed that it was trembling steadily. _You...amaze me._

She took his hand and put hers on top, stealthily enough to not warrant inspection. _Why?_

He laced his fingers with hers and set them on his lap. _Because you never fail to take my breath away._

She bit her lip at that comment. Now was not a good time to snuggle. She turned to him and positioned her hair so her mouth was covered from the side, though still visible to him. "I love you," she mouthed gently.

He looked around, and saw that Snape's back was turned, and everyone else was absorbed in scribbling down the notes. He leaned forward, closing the small distance between them as the front of his face was covered by her curtain of red hair. He pecked her lips lightly, gently. "I love you too."


End file.
